Wolf RPG

set for the 23rd

germanicus led @Nephele to the last place he had been within the sunspire.

he had not wanted to stop the night before. daylight found the imperator moving along the cursed slopes of the sunspire, down the steep rockways.

they descended into the bowl of the hollow. the air was laden with petrichor. germanicus shook out his ruff.

in the hour before, an eagle had passed overhead. he had watched it but he had not thought of editum. only crowfeather.

he did not speak. his legs had not yet tired. germanicus began to search along the curved sides of the hollow. perhaps the young ranger had slept here before going on. he explored the old hoofprints left by deer, the spoor of a fox, the smeared pawmark left by a marten.

the minutes passed to hours. the eagle went on.

and now the air grew thick and bloodstained. it was not a beast which lay among crushed branches and stones that had slid from the mountain, red with blood.

it was "@Crowfeather." the imperator's voice strangled to nothing, and he set about grimly excavating the shadow from the debris. the reek of nyra's fetid breath had slimed the black wolf's fur into bloody tufts. germanicus could not count the number of wounds. "crowfeather," he said again, seeking to see if the other still breathed.

his mind remained the cool and repressed animal that generals had created of him.

but his heart was a chaotic blur of a thousand things.

The man’s voice did nothing to rouse the dark shape in the underbrush.

The branches of the bush had folded to cradle Crowfeather’s limp frame in their arms. Stones, leaves, sticks, and other debris had caked into his bloodied figure. If he were to be pried from the hands of the bushes, it was not likely that he would come free without taking bits of it with him. Some of the dirt had aided in sealing the wounds. Were it not for the fall from the mountain, he may have bled to death.

Crowfeather was breathing, yes. His breath fell in short gasps, a sound that suggested he was struggling to pass the air through his lungs. Had Nyra’s fangs pierced his throat? It was uncertain. The damage to his body was much too severe to know the extent. The only clear injury that could be seen was the mangled twist of his hind ankle, bent grotesquely away from the natural slope of his limb.

No, no, p- please, the shadow cried out, his eyes remained closed.

Fevered dreams replayed the attack he had suffered. Germanicus was there, but the dark wolf did not know it. The last memory that existed in the boy’s mind was that of a glen filled with sparkling fireflies – orange balls of starlight that had swam around their heads.

She didn’t expect they would find him.

She did not expect the state they would find him in. Fevered, limb twisted to such an extent it made her own throb. She didn’t know if it was safe to move him. Nephele sucked in a breath through her teeth, casting her eyes up the side of the mountain.

How do we..? Get him out of this. Get him home. Stop Merrick and the bearwolves from taking his head when word got out. Nephele didn’t know which one she meant in that moment, and perhaps that was the worst part of all.

She swallowed through a throat that did not want to be swallowed. She did not offer mercy, though she wanted to. She’d never known when to offer it and when not to.

he needed a healer. there was not one between them. crowfeather's breath laboured.

if they waited here, germanicus felt he would die without the hand of a physician.

and if he lifted the shadow, he might do more harm.

"we cannot stay here." his voice was firm. empty. "help me." crowfeather's fur was tangled with debris and sap, dusted with fur. the gasping tore at him. he thrust his muzzle beneath one armpit and his broad shoulders followed.

he would seek to bear the healer along his back, the dark forelegs hanging over his shoulders, the hindlimbs slung over his hips.

"we must go."

The fear that was felt was nothing like what he had felt before. It was as though the sharp edges of that feeling had been dulled and stripped away. Perhaps it was because Crowfeather did not believe he would ever feel the same terror he had felt when being chased by Nyra. Perhaps it was because he did not understand what had happened to him in the days that had passed.

The dark wolf was lifted onto the back of the greyworn soldier. The pain was immense. Crowfeather retched, nothing left his mouth. The dark figure had been emptied of any food that had been inside of him days before. His stomach lurched and he gagged again, feeling his stomach churn within him and his eyes burn from the effort of it. The shadow heaved dryly one last time before his head lolled against Germanicus’ shoulder.

The scent of the soldier filled his nose like perfume.

Germ-

Crowfeather was gone again, swept away into the darkness of his unconscious mind.

I think you can skip me. I may throw in a random little response here and there. <3

Nephele tried her best, but the shadow wasn’t a woman of healing. She was a woman who did her job, did it well enough that she would never have to worry about healing. But now she did.

Now she worried for the shape they’d return in. Her eyes skittered to the distant peaks, then returned to Crowfeather.

Then we go.

Hopefully not to their own demises.

supported by nephele and her firm words, germanicus moved as quickly as he was able back along the stone paths.

for the first time in a long while he felt prayer upon him.

do not let this one die.

it was not a fitting thought for a soldier.

Germanicus

Crowfeather

Themis

Germanicus

Crowfeather

Themis

Germanicus